Shadow's Claim (Immortals After Dark #13)(39)

“Please! He could die.”

Raum couldn’t be moved. “Might maketh right, Bettina.”

Only one thing could save Cas now. Help him, Daciano! she inwardly cried. Gods, she would do anything, would agree to any number of boons to save Cas.

As if he’d heard her, Daciano glanced up with a scowl, then to Cas and back. He held up five fingers.

She nodded instantly, not even pausing to consider what this would mean in the future.

At once, Daciano traced in front of Caspion, his sword slashing out with breathtaking speed. With one swing, he cleaved through the waists of the Ajatars—and the whip holding Cas. Another swing, and Daciano’s bloody sword took the pair’s four heads.

Cas staggered back in confusion, no doubt wondering why Daciano hadn’t slain him as well. Only then did Raum give the signal to end the melee.

Just as the great horn began to sound, Daciano vanished, reappearing once more before the Horde vampire.

Slash.

The red-eyed vampire’s head toppled as the horn’s blast faded. . . .

At least three dozen others had fallen—although the melee had lasted not ten minutes. Even the bloodthirsty crowd had quieted, gaping at the carnage.

Gradually the remaining contestants dropped their weapons, backing away from each other. Most began limping toward the sanctum entrance. Their eyes burned with emotion—rage, fear, even excitement—from the hell they’d just endured.

But not Daciano. His eyes were a steady, compelling green—and locked on her.

Raum counted the fallen then announced, “So concludes the first night! Congratulations to the one hundred and ninety-two survivors. Tomorrow will commence the one-on-one, randomly drawn bouts. Each contestant may bring one cold weapon into the ring—a sword, a lance, a club, a mace, and so on. The bouts begin at sunset. Good eve!”

A group of jubilant young Abaddonae had already surrounded Cas, but Daciano remained amidst the bodies, blood splattered over his clothing, rivulets of it running down his grim face as he gazed up at her.

He’d killed so ruthlessly, yet so . . . calmly. Bettina had never seen anything like him.

And she owed that dangerous male her favors.

He’d taken out five competitors just for her and had saved Cas. But not for long. If Cas faces Daciano, he is as good as dead. A small sob escaped her lips.

Daciano simply stared at her, as if there were nothing else on earth worth beholding.





Trehan was up to his ankles in blood, viscera, and writhing corpses.

Freshly slain bodies of all species would often twitch, but immortal corpses and body parts clung tenaciously to life. Severed hands still clenched and unclenched. Mouths opened on soundless screams. The faces on severed heads changed expressions before freezing into grimaces of pain.

He supposed it was fitting that Bettina see him like this, without shadows to conceal him, his true nature exposed. This is what I bring to you.

If you need a protector, this is what I offer.

Her lips were parted, her eyes wide behind her mask. He inclined his head to her, acknowledging for whom he’d fought.

Tonight he’d been Bettina Abaddon’s champion. And zeii mea, it’d felt good to kill for her!

When he started for her, she gasped, turning to Raum, who was now waylaid by outraged delegates, each demanding his champion’s release from the blood contract.

—“I never would have entered my son if I’d known Goürlav would be in the lists.”—

—“Not to mention the remaining vampire! Who the hell is he? What is his line?”—

—“The word contest indicates a fighting chance, demon!”—

Apparently those idiots hadn’t realized that Raum was not to be ordered about. The grand duke’s chest was bowed even more, his horns straightening with hostility.

Bettina wisely turned from that group without a word. She glanced at Caspion, who was surrounded by a throng of admiring demonesses, which clearly irritated her.

That wastrel had a female like Bettina wanting him. But he was too stupid to see what was just before him.

His loss. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll make sure of it.



The vampire was coming for her. So naturally, Bettina had chosen to flee.

Of course the one time she’d hoped for Morgana’s intrusiveness in her life—if anyone could devise a way out of a bargain it would be the wily sorceress—her guardian had left. Raum was busy, Salem nowhere to be found.

Cas was . . . occupied.

Bettina glanced over her shoulder. Vampire still nearing. She peered around for anyone to talk to, but suspected Daciano wouldn’t be stopped anyway.

When he traced in front of her, she drew up short. Snared.

“We’ve ten favors between us,” he grated, taking back the coat she’d forgotten she still held. “Are you prepared to pay what you owe?”

She parted her lips to answer, only to fall silent as she peered up at him. “Your eyes were green the entire time.”

“Why is this noteworthy?”

“All that killing and blood, all those screams and flames, and you’re unaffected.” In a way, he reminded her of . . . of gold—a noble metal that didn’t react to most other elements.

“I’m accustomed to death and all its faces. But when I think about last night, I’m utterly affected.” At once, his eyes flooded black.